


Makeup

by AdriMmoralesDUH



Series: Fifty reasons for Sherlolly smut [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Makeup Sex, Making Love, Smut, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriMmoralesDUH/pseuds/AdriMmoralesDUH
Summary: Sherlock and Molly, man and woman. A confession and a single act, both united by love.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Fifty reasons for Sherlolly smut [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055156
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Fifty Reasons to Have (Sherlolly) Sex





	Makeup

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by "50 Reasons to have sex" and is written for the collection of "Fifty reasons to have sex (Sherlolly)"
> 
> 2\. Make'up sex.

Sherlock's gaze never left the window of the taxi that was taking him to the house of his little pathologist. They had both stayed two nights ago to go see "Hamlet" at the national theater, tickets that Molly was able to get, by sheer miracle, as a birthday present for the detective. There was little traffic, so Sherlock's arrival at Molly's house would be ahead of schedule.

Large raindrops were sliding down the glass of the window where Sherlock's head was resting, it was until thunder shook him out of his thoughts that he realized his violinist fingers were shaking and rubbing against each other and his right knee. He bounced constantly, they were clear signs of the anxiety Molly could cause in him; because yes, the little woman had been able to control her emotions and thoughts.

_Molly_

He had promised her that he would be there at 07:00 pm, thus having an hour off so that she could get ready and be on time for the play.

The cab pulled up on the gravel in front of Molly's house, paid the driver, and drove up to the house. Sherlock had the key so ringing the bell was no problem. The entrance hall was dimly lit by auxiliary lights, the living room followed the same pattern, but the little pathologist was nowhere to be seen. He climbed the stairs and went to the master bedroom, that's where he found her.

Molly wore an impressive black lace dress, her small but shaped figure was noticeable, her small breasts, the curve of her waist, the slip of her hips, the curve in her legs, it was all a beautiful set of features. Sherlock realized he was holding his breath and it was just when he blew out that Molly's head snapped around.

Face to face, they both looked at each other, both surprised, he by her beauty, and she by the unexpected arrival. Molly wore red lipstick, which made her mouth look much more appetizing, her cheekbones were with a slight blush, each of her features were finely perfected. Sherlock realized that his mind was often reluctant to accept the need for her, but his body seemed to have taken the news much better, since every time he saw her his pants would flap.

"Molly, I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you."

His voice was nothing more than a whisper. He had come out of his trance and was approaching her. But he didn't touch her. No, intimacy was too boring for Sherlock Holmes, _wasn't it?_

"Well, yes you did, you scared me, I knew you were coming but I thought you were going to knock on the door like everyone else does. I almost threw my brush at you” Molly answered taking a deep breat.

"I know I'm sorry. There was not much traffic so my arrival was much faster."

"Well, in any case it would be better if you took a seat ... in my bed, I am missing a bit, I am not satisfied with my hairstyle."

"Molly, for me, who am an honest man, I tell you that you look beautiful." Sherlock said, without eye contact and sitting on the only bed in the room.

Molly didn't know how to answer this, Sherlock Holmes was not one of the men who complimented you like this. But she made the decision to continue the game.

"Well that's not something you hear every day."

"Not all women attract my attention, much less are they my favorite pathologist."

"Very well, you definitely came wanting to tease, right?"

"What? No, I'm not making fun, Molly, not at all, I'm being honest, honest with you."

“Sherlock, years ago, at that Christmas party we had in your apartment, to name one occasion. You saw me and I didn't call your attention, why now ?, and why just today, when we are supposed to go to the theater? "

"I do not know. Sincerely since I returned, I realized that I had to take those around me more seriously, and if I never paid attention to you at that party, then let me tell you that the only answer I have is that I was a complete idiot. "

The expression on Molly's face was a mixture of wonder, gratitude, and doubt. Her eyes twinkled a little, she didn't know how to take what he was saying, _was this a statement?_

It was then that Sherlock stood up and with a conspicuous but brave effort approached her, his face a few inches from hers, this was undoubtedly amazing as the man often took care of his personal space.

She blinked, quickly, several times. Her eyes fell on his eyes, even though he refused to make eye contact, it was quite obvious that his pupils were dilated. Something ignited in Molly, something that never, not even in her most sublime fantasies could have imagined, that feeling that only Sherlock Holmes could make her feel.

"Why?" She asks when her lips were, as if possible, a few millimeters from his.

“Because now I leave my walls, because now I am only a man before you, Molly. A man who needs you, a man hungry for skin-to-skin contact." It was at this moment that Sherlock was finally able to look into her eyes and as an act of bravery he closed the small space between them.

Molly kisses him back, her tongue tangling with his, they both lose their fear and a warm feeling surges. Sherlock grabs her hand and leads her to the bed, she is done and he gets right on top of her. Button for button, dress, lingerie, zippers and then there is nothing standing between the two of them. The breath is in unison, Sherlock's chocolate curls stick to his forehead from sweat, soft, hoarse moans, sublime kisses. Little noises that make the man above her tremble. He offered himself for a while, they look into each other's eyes, no words are necessary, only actions; Sherlock moves to retrieve his wallet and pulls out a Trojan condom, Molly is a bit surprised (not so much, because the size of a soldier he had hidden in his pants is quite obvious) and then with a hiss of concentration she puts it on. She asks him once more, in a low, tense voice, if he's sure what he's going to do and he shuts her up with a kiss. The night gets darker but they don't need light, they can both see their reflections in the droplets of love that are on each other's foreheads ...

Sherlock feels the pressure of her body pulling away for him, feels the insistent wet pressure as he slides into her (she clearly should give him a little help, but that's to be expected, he doesn't want to hurt her or pain). Feel her breasts pressing against his stocky chest and feel the sweet vital breath of her breath against his neck where she moans for him, where she whispers his name, singing, as if she has wanted to say and feel it for years. Their bodies fit together like a puzzle, and when he gasps at the sensation, she looks at him with tenderness and passion. Sherlock no doubt struggles so that the sensations don't overwhelm him, but she, oh, his little, beautiful and intelligent Molly, helps him relax and gives him time to catalog what he feels… He presses against her, they move together, restless and happy, too determined to please each other… Too focused to be anything but skin to skin, pinches, caresses, smiles and moan after moan.

It can be seconds, it can be minutes or it can be hours, they don't know.

For the first time, cause and duration are of no interest in Sherlock's life.

For the first time she feels the man she loves so much for days, months and years.

He endures, although it is very difficult, he endures until she comes screaming his name, that is when Sherlock feels that all strength has left him, as a last effort he moves his hips even stronger and faster, an urgent sensation, a volcano that treats exploding, that's when Sherlock yells his name with his mouth open and the big "OH". Heat presses toward his core, he feels it everywhere, a tingle, a pressure, an explosion. His heart races, pounding, his hips hesitate to take another hit, his body stutters, and his limbs spasm, flushed skin, and sweat. A glorious sight that Molly is proud of for causing the most difficult yet sensitive man in the world to lose himself within her. For one blissful, blissful minute, all you hear in the room are the growl of a man who loves fiercely and the moan of a full woman, after that all that's left is a soft, white silence.

Sherlock feels his brain working again and looks at Molly who is hugging his broad shoulders tightly. He comes out of her, kisses her while he does it and stands next to her, they both look at each other and caress, but this time without lust, this time with reverence and love.

Molly stands up, naked, a perfect image that will be kept in his palace of the mind.

She goes to the bathroom and takes off her makeup, cleans herself and returns to Sherlock with a flannel, wipes him with feeling, almost reverently.

The only thing that both can see is the face of the person they have wanted and loved the most. They are complete, they are united.

In the dark of the night, being 08:00 p.m., he smiles and makes her in bed next to him hugging her tightly. It is this peaceful and sublime position where they both finally fall asleep.

……………………

The next morning, Sherlock Holmes wakes up feeling completely full, de-stressed and completely convinced of the healing power that love is, not _sex_ , as many like it, no, he likes the feeling of loving and being loved, of giving and receive.

He turns around to find Molly lying next to him. She looks beautiful, without makeup, without clothes, naked before him, for him. Molly might feel that she may be simple, but for Sherlock, a man who feels everything differently, it is not, she is his, his _woman_ ...

And if he can be her boyfriend and that… well, that would be his purpose.

 _Feeling_ , a word that he had so dreaded of for so many years, one of the words that he gave them a lot of power. But that's the way it is, isn't it? The best thing in the world is to feel, to be alive, to be whole, happy and loved. Because that is what this small but powerful woman gives him, she is his rock, his anchor, his everything.

Molly fidgets in her sleep, frowns and with a soft blink she opens her eyes, sees him, and smiles sleepily in the dawn light.

Sherlock smiles at her, gives her a chaste kiss on the forehead and gets up to go to the kitchen to get ice cream. His nudity is appreciated by Molly.

When Sherlock returns, she is sitting against the headboard and does a vague gesture to her side, he obeys and sits next to her, carrying the jar of strawberry and vanilla ice cream. Open the lid and insert the two spoons. The two eat with a soft conversation.

Hamlet was forgotten, the tickest lying around ...

The night was natural, like an actor on the stage, like a baby's smile, beautiful like a violin, beautiful like a sincere woman, a woman without _makeup_.

*****************************************************************************

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, let me see your comments.  
> Total thanks.


End file.
